Fate Brought Me Back
by Callek Darren
Summary: After being kicked out of his now ex-girlfriend Wendy's house Stan is left with no where to go. After trying to make his way back to South Park for three days he finds himself at a bar in a city in Colorado that he doesn't know the name of. What happens when fate sends an old friend his way and a bit of luck? Slash / Style
1. Part 1

**Fate Brought Me Back**

_**Rated**_:_ M for smut, language, and crude shit_

**Two-Part One-Shot**

_**Pairing:** KylexStan (Style)_

_**Warning:**_ _Yes, the above means it is a gay/slash/homosexual/yaoi story. If you do not like that sort of thing I suggest you turn around and go about your business. If any flaming in the reviews show up your comment will swiftly be removed and ignored._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own South Park or any of the characters in this story. I am not making any profit what-so-ever from this work of fiction, simply using the characters for my own joy and amusement._

**Description:** _After being kicked out of his now ex-girlfriend Wendy's house Stan is left with no where to go. After trying to make his way back to South Park for three days he finds himself at a bar in a city in Colorado that he doesn't know the name of. What happens when fate sends an old friend his way and a bit of luck?_

* * *

**Part One**

Eighteen was not a good age to move far away from your parents. Eighteen was not a age for anyone to move into their girlfriends house. Eighteen was not a good age to break off life-long friendships that could have lasted a lifetime longer. Eighteen was the age that Stan Marsh made all of these mistakes. At the time they all seemed like good choices. At the time he would have done anything to make his life easier, and these decisions were the ones he made thinking that they would affect his life for the better.

At the age of fifteen Wendy Testaburger came to Stan in the halls of their high school. She told him she wanted to put all their childhood relations in the past and wanted to start again fresh as a serious couple. In the past this statement would have made the black haired teen throw up. Instead he confidently smiled and nodded his head, taking her hand as if he sold his soul to Satan himself. He remained close with his childhood friends: Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick, and yes even Eric Cartman (who did not calm down with any of his pranks or racism over the years), but the day after their graduation night changed all of that.

Wendy begged Stan to take her away to another town, another state- just anywhere that wasn't South Park Colorado. At the time he had been saving his money from his part-time job at the City Wok, and agreed turning in his two-week notice and packing his things away. He spent the two weeks he had left in South Park hunting down an apartment that he and Wendy could rent, and ended up finding a place in Nevada that had a decent rate. The day he packed up his beat up 1969 Camero was the day he said goodbye to everyone. His friends, especially Kyle who was still considered his best friend, told him to call them as soon as he got settled in. He never did.

He got a job at a food market as a bagger and worked his way up to a produce handler. The pay wasn't amazing, but it kept food on the table and the bills paid. Wendy had a tougher time adapting to the new place. She would stay out till late at night and would never have any other excuse other than job hunting for her reason being out so late. Stan was oblivious to any and all hints that she was just out having fun without him, and was being left with all the bills.

Stan walked lazily up the stairs of their apartment complex, making his way to the third and top floor. He was now twenty, not fully regretting his choice to move away, but fully regretting not keeping in touch with his friends. He regrettably lost their numbers years ago, and the constant working was keeping him on his toes. He wanted friends again, like Wendy had. She didn't work, she hadn't found a job since they moved there, and had plenty of time to make new friends as she searched the city for a job that suited her tastes.

He trudge down the greasy smelling hall fishing out his keys and unlocking the door. Another tiring day at work fending off kids with sticky fingers who prodded his merchandise, and dropped the vegetables on the floor as if they were their play things. He just wanted to go into his room and collapse. What he didn't expect as the door swung open was a set of boxes piled up in the doorway.

"Uh, Wendy?" he called out, squeezing through the small opening she left between the cardboard pillars.

"Oh good, you are back. I packed all your things, I assume you got my voice mail?" Wendy walked into the hall, her face plastered with makeup, her hand on her hips as she looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"What're you talking about? Why did you pack my shit?"

"Oh, I guess I called the wrong Stan," she lamented, Stan's brows raising in both confusion and shock of the statement, "Well, I'm kicking you out. I found a new man, a real man. He has a real job, he wants to get married to me. I figured you wouldn't mind just going back home to South Park so I took the liberty of sending in your letter of resignation, and called your parents. They are expecting you home in a few days."

What was she talking about? Stan stumbled back, using one of the pillars to keep his balance. Why was all this happening? He was providing for her. He found this place. He did all that she wanted.

"Why?" he finally squeaked out, standing upright, looking at her in the eyes, "Why? What did I do wrong?"

The black-haired woman sighed and flicked her hair behind her shoulders shrugging, "You just aren't for me. Now please leave, I don't want to make this any harder than it already is."

Stan regrettably did as he was told, and took his boxes down to his car. He shoved three of them, and one small one into his trunk, then four in the back seats and a backpack with another small box in the passenger seat. He stared up at their window as he heard a noise, and reached out catching a rolled up ball of fabric that Wendy tossed down. He nearly grinned at his knitted blue and red cap that Kyle had made for him when his other one got too small. He hadn't seen this one in two years, and nearly had forgotten that he even had it. He shoved it on his head, got into the car, then started the engine, driving off in the direction he knew Colorado was in.

He was tired, depressed, and now homeless for the time being. Why was God doing this to him? He worked hard every day since they left South Park Colorado. He showered Wendy with all she wanted. Was all this depression really deserved? He wasn't sure exactly. All he knew right then was that he was now recalling what it felt like being a Goth back in elementary school. He remembered dressing in all black, wearing eyeliner and writing depressing poetry with the other Goth-kids. As he pulled into a rest-stop after an hour of driving he mused at his wardrobe. He was wearing all black since it was his work uniform, but the irony of the whole situation baffled him. He turned off the car, locked the doors, then curled up in a ball humming a song he didn't know the words to to help himself lull to sleep.

* * *

Sunlight broke at nearly six in the morning. Stand had nearly forgotten where he was, or why he was asleep in his car, but frowned when he saw the boxes in the backseats. It wasn't a dream, and this was all reality. He hated it, but there was nothing else he could do. He opened his backpack, pulled out a toothbrush, tooth paste and a bar of soap that was put in a plastic bag, then rummaged through a few boxes till he found a red shirt, some jeans and a fresh pair of socks and underwear. He walked to the bathrooms, changed his clothes, washed his face and brushed his teeth before heading back to the car feeling a tiny bit refreshed now that he was all cleaned up.

He checked his phone, half hoping that there was going to be a missed call or two from Wendy, but had no new messages, just a big date on the screen that made him groan. It was October 19th, a date that he had almost forgotten it had existed. She broke up with him and kicked him out on the eve of his birthday. Had she forgotten, or was she just that low as to deliver a blow like that? He wasn't exactly sure of the answer, but quickly turned off his phone so he could preserve the battery and started the car once again, heading off in the direction of Colorado.

* * *

Stan did not stop for much other than the occasional fill-up of gas and water. He rarely ate at all, he had no appetite to even open his mouth for any sort of solid food, but by the third day of traveling his stomach lurched angrily ignoring his feeling and depression shrieking for attention and nourishment. He stopped at another rest stop, buying a few bags of trail mix from the vending machines and another bottle of water before returning to his car to munch on his makeshift meal.

Where was he? He didn't have the slightest clue. Did he make a wrong turn? As he finished up the third bag of trail mix, he let out a yawn. It was getting dark, and the food had made him feel more tired than he really should. He looked at the clock on his dashboard, and roared the engine to life once more. It was only nearing seven at night. He could make a few more miles before he had to turn in for some sleep. Hopefully he was making both good time and heading in the right direction...

* * *

He hit civilization at nearly ten. It was a big city, but he didn't pay enough attention to the signs around him to figure out which. He stopped in a parking lot of a bar, and stared at the sign for what seemed like ages before he got out of the car and wandered inside. He still had some cash left, why not head in for his first legal beer?

The bar was quaint and cozy as if they were in a small town instead of a city. He sat on a stool at the front, the bartender tending a man off to the side before walking over to him and giving him a smile, "What'll it be kid? And I need to check yer I.D. if it's got booze in it," he stated more as an after-fact than anything else. Stan nodded his head, pulling out his wallet and sliding his I.D. to him, watching him check it and look up at him, "You just turned legal, eh? Well happy birthday kid, have a glass on me," the bartender grabbed a glass from behind him and filled it to the brim, "Real German Ale for ya," he winked, stepping back and watching as he tried it.

It was nothing close to the beers he use to sneak with Kenny back in South Park. It was richer, and had more of a hearty taste that made his taste buds yell for more. "Thanks, man," he thanked, as if they knew each other for years. He knew his voice was raspy, after all he hadn't spoken a word since he drove away from his old home, but didn't particularly care.

"You look miserable, what's eatin' ya?"

Stan mused for a moment. How to start it? The beginning? The end? What all should he leave out and what all should he mention? He figured to keep it short and simple, "My ex tossed me out right after work. No signs of it or anything till she kicked me to the curb. I did everything for her." He paused a moment before figuring it wouldn't hurt to continue on, "Moved her out of our hometown because she wanted to leave. Found a home in Nevada, worked every day only taking a sick day here and there only to be kicked to the side after being told that she found a real man... Pah..." he shook his head looking down at his glass and taking another swig of the amber-colored drink.

"Tha's rough," the bartender stated, then paused looking to the door as the bell attached the door jingled softly, "S'cuse me for a moment," he said, walking from behind the bar and over to the door. "Yer early."

"Yeah, boss had me work late and sent me on deliveries the day before to late night businesses."

Stan's ears perked up. He knew that voice. But from where? His head turned to look at the door. There was a blonde boy who looked just out of his teens, wearing a gray company t-shirt with it's logo on the right breast of the shirt, and the back. He wore torn up old jeans, and beat up black steel-toe boots. Who was this kid? It was probably just a ghost out to haunt him. He was sure of it, till the boys blue eyes looked over in his direction and his mouth gaped.

"Stan? Stan Marsh?"

The bartender looked to Stan, then to the boy once again, obviously recalling the name that he read on his I.D.. "Ya know this guy, Kenny?" the man asked, Kenny nodding his head and scrambling over to him, and snatching his shoulders spinning him to face him.

"You asshole, where have you been?"

An insult. He hadn't been insulted in years, especially by someone who seemed so close to him by the way he gazed at him. "Shut up you twit," was that really the best he could come up with?

"He's had a bit of a rough time, Kenny. Don't be too rough on him for whatever he did to you in the past," the bartender stated, in case Kenny's insult was because of a past feud.

"Rough time? Hey... Why are you here in Denver? I thought you and Wendy headed out to Nevada?"

That hit a nerve. This was really Kenny McCormick. He wasn't a ghost haunting him. The fact that he knew the general area of where he went, and his ex-girlfriend was enough to prove that. His face twisted as he tried hard not to cry. All the emotions he was ignoring as he was driving hit him like a speeding truck down a highway. He turned his head down, his friend jetting forward and pulling him up.

"I should take him home," he stated to the bartender, who nodded in understanding as the blonde walked to the door, holding on to the black-haired man's shoulders. He led him past his own car that he didn't bother even mentioning and walked him to a delivery truck. "That was my last delivery for the night so we only have to make a quick detour to the plant so I can drop this old piece of junk off and get my own car... Speaking of which, how did you make it here?"

"I drove. Wendy kicked me out the other day... She said she called my parents to let them know I was coming home, sent in my letter of resignation..." as he was climbing in the truck a few sobs escaped his mouth, making him cover his face in haste, attempting to stop the tears.

"Dude it's okay," Kenny cooed, reaching out and patting his shoulder, "Just let it out. That's gotta hurt. Just cry, scream, do whatever you need to. The bright side is you came back right? A lot has happened since you left... And we've really missed you. Even fatass comments every so often that he wished you were back."

Kenny took the parking break off of the truck and quickly turned it out of parking lot and made his way down the dark and very dimly lit city. Why didn't Stan offer to drive himself to Kenny's place? As he hunched over, his question was answered. He hugged himself as he started to let loose, his tears freely flowing out as incoherent sobs escaped his lips. Why did this hurt so much now? Why did his heart ache?

The blonde man helped Stan out of the truck and into a small, but clean pickup truck, which he climbed into once he returned the delivery truck keys to the office. He started the engine which roared to life with little to no sound. The beanie wearing man hiccuped making himself look over to Kenny who smiled, "Here's one of the things that has changed. I have money, and fatass is the poor one. Though, I'm not sure if anyone would make fun of him at this point..."

Stand didn't know what he meant by that, but didn't bother asking as he curled up into a ball, pressing his cheek to the cool window. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, "Where's Kyle?" he asked, not bothering to even open his eyes as he started to question himself why Kyle was the first one to be asked about.

"Well he was living with us, but now he lives in some apartment by the hospital. He's doing pretty well off by himself, though he doesn't get out much..." Stan felt that Kenny wasn't telling him something, but didn't press the matter.

"So that means you are living with Cartman?"

"Other way around actually. His mom died last month so he moved up here and took over my couch. I told him to just take Kyle's old room but he keeps saying 'I am not sleeping in a bed that, that dirty Jew once slept in' as if he has a right to be picky about where he sleeps," he half scoffed.

Kenny pulled up on the side of a street, parking on the curb that was labeled "H-11" whatever that meant, and got out Stan following suit. He felt like his eyes were balloons, but ignored it after rubbing them twice and following Kenny into a towering apartment building. He walked to the elevator, pressed the third floor, and they waited as the old sounding machine cranked to life and slowly pulled them up. It was quite possibly the longest elevator ride that the black-haired man had ever taken. They exited the elevator, the smell of everyone in the halls cooking meshed together to make it smell like old and dirty socks that had not been cleaned in years. He pinched his nose, Kenny laughing and nodding indicating that he understood the stench and walked to a door, unlocking it and holding it open for him.

The inside of the apartment, thankfully, didn't smell bad. He noticed a few air fresheners scattered across the place, but didn't comment or blame them in the slightest for having them. The sound of something loud and snoring was coming from the couch, which when he looked was an even bigger Cartman. As if he needed the name Fatass to describe how he looked... His stomach hung out of his T-shirt that seemed to be two times too small for him. He wore a beanie on his head but no pants. His leg hung over the back of the couch making his legs spread eagle-style as he snored away.

"Oh come on Lardo, wear some pants you douche bag!" Kenny threw a balled up piece of paper at the snoring man making him simply grunt and roll over towards the back of the couch. "Nasty..." He turned to look at Stan again, "It's crazy. I just can't get over that you are here... Oh, do you want to sleep? You can take Kyle's old room," he took his arm so he couldn't protest and lead him to the barely touched room. There were just two or three extra boxes laying around, but aside from that was bare with a bed in the corner with the sheets all made.

Stan nodded his head in thanks, and walked over to the bed, flopping forward and groaning as his muscles instantly relaxed at the feeling of something so soft. It hadn't been very long since he had been in a bed, but the way his muscles had ached from sleeping curled up in the car made it feel like months.

Kenny smiled, and closed the door behind his friend, glaring at Eric as he let out another snort, then reaching down and yanking the TV remote from his piggy fingers and turning off the muted Television. He walked to his room, closed the door and pulled out his cellphone. It was nearly one in the morning by now, and he knew that Kyle would be asleep, but would he mind waking up to the news of their best friend showing up?

He finally decided to, pressing the call button and holding the phone to his ear, listening to it ring twice before a groggy voice greeted his ears. "Yeah Ken? What is it?"

"Stan's here."

"What?" his voice turned up ten volumes, instantly waking up as Kenny was sure the other sat up abruptly.

"I found him at a bar when I was delivering stock. Seems like that bitch Wendy gave him the boot. He's really choked up. I just put him in your old room."

"I'll come over in the morning, is that okay?"

"Yeah sure dude."

They hung up their phones without any real goodbye, Kenny yawning and stretching as he plugged in the device and flopped back on his own bed. He really hoped that Stan was here to stay for good. Maybe the old gang would finally be together again...

* * *

Kyle was back at his old apartments at nearly eight in the morning. He debated on coming in a bit later, and had called into work sick only to stand in front of the apartment and stare at the door. He took in a deep breath, then unlocked the door only to be greeted with the sound of shooting coming from the TV. He closed the door behind him and entered the apartment, watching the view of Call of Duty being played on the screen as Cartman's chubby fingers hit the bottoms of the XBOX at the speed of light.

"What do you want Faggot?" Cartman snapped looking back and glaring at Kyle, who just narrowed his eyes in return.

"Where's Kenny you fat piece of shit?" he asked, the large man staggering to his feet and yanking at his T-shirt in an attempt to pull it over his shame.

"I'm not fat you stupid Jew!"

The door to Kenny's room opened as the man in question exited the room, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as he gestured for Kyle to follow him, and led him into the Master bedroom's small bathroom. He spit out the white paste and gargled before spitting out the contents, and patted his mouth dry. "Cartman doesn't have a clue that Stan's here. He was passed out last night when we got here. I guess I should mention it, but I don't know if Stan's awake or not."

Kyle mulled over his thoughts and shrugged, "Just tell him, I'll play sumo with his royal fatness if he tries to go in."

They both heard a thud, and looked towards the door to the living room, both blinking then rushing to see what happened. As soon as they entered they were greeted with Cartman's yelling as he scrambled to his feet and waddled over to Stan and gave him an uncharacteristically large hug.

"When the fuck did you get here?!" the large, brown haired man asked, pulling away from the contact as soon as he noticed what he was doing.

"Last night, I ran into Kenny last night and he let me stay the night," Stan rubbed the back of his head, and looked up to see Kyle, standing there in a green cap, grinning at him. His orange hair stuck out from under the cap, but seemed more neat from what he could see. He hadn't seemed to age a day since they left. In fact, that only one that really had changed was Cartman. "I suppose it's too late to apologize for leaving?" he asked, looking down then receiving a punch on his arm from the closer man.

"Yeah you stupid bitch, you left us for that stupid cunt!" Eric yelled, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

"Well she's gone, alright? You don't have to worry about her. She's probably married now and in the process of getting knocked up," Stan glared at the ground, not noticing as Kyle walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Will you stay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah man, I mean I was originally heading back to South Park but... If you guys are here then fuck that," Stan smiled. Being able to freely cuss was somewhat a relief, though he knew he was really out of practice after having to break the habit when they moved. "Where is here anyway?"

Kyle blinked and looked to Kenny who shrugged, then looked back at Stan once again, "Denver."

"Oh." He distantly remembered Kenny asking him why he was in Denver last night, but shook his head and forced a grin on his lips as he looked between his friends. It was amazing to see them, even Cartman. They weren't too mad at him, and seemed just as happy to see him as he was to see them.

"Hey man, I do have to tell you something though..." Kyle left his hand drop to his side, Cartman shifting to the side to sit back on the couch as if ignoring whatever it was that Kyle was going to say. Kenny stayed where he was, though he crossed his arms and looked uncomfortably to the ground. Stan looked at him questioningly, but judging by the reactions of the other two, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know what he had to say.

"I'm gay."

* * *

_**A/n**_: The next part will be up either later on today or tomorrow, depends on when I get to finishing the last few things and I want to get down. Please review and let me know what you think. First South Park fic even though I've been a Style fan for a few years now.


	2. Part 2

**Fate Brought Me Back**

_**Rated**: M for smut, language, and crude acts_

_**Two-Part One-Shot**_

_**Pairing**: KylexStan (Style)_

_**Warning:** Yes, the above means it is a gay/slash/homosexual/yaoi story. If you do not like that sort of thing I suggest you turn around and go about your business. If any flaming in the reviews show up your comment will swiftly be removed and ignored._

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own South Park or any of the characters in this story. I am not making any profit what-so-ever from this work of fiction, simply using the characters for my own joy and amusement._

_**Description**: After being kicked out of his now ex-girlfriend Wendy's house Stan is left with no where to go. After trying to make his way back to South Park for three days he finds himself at a bar in a city in Colorado that he doesn't know the name of. What happens when fate sends an old friend his way and a bit of luck?_

* * *

**Part Two**

Stan nearly fell to the floor. Kyle was gay? He really didn't know what to say really. But the most confusing thing of all was the fact that this fact relieved him. He saw Kyle gulp and looked to Kenny who looked at Stan, awaiting him to say anything. Even Cartman was looking back curiously, not bothering to say anything himself.

"That's cool," Stan finally stated, unable to comprehend why he felt so calm about this fact.

"You don't hate me for it?"

"Why would I? It's not like you have some contagious disease or anything," Stan gave him a smile and looked to Cartman who just scoffed.

"Yeah not like anyone couldn't see this faggot comin' " he commented back, Kenny throwing the remote at their fat friend who yelled out and threw it back. "I dare you to throw it again you little fuck," he warned, pointing his middle finger upward as he flipped the blonde off.

"Hey Ken, can I have a ride back to the bar? I kind of want to get my car again," Stan stated, Kyle blinking.

"I can take you?"

"Sure."

By the time they left the apartment Kenny was somehow wrestling with Cartman, the two fighting in an awkward manner since Kenny was so thin and not muscular where Cartman was huge in all aspects. It was amazing that the smaller man wasn't squished to death, or the large man did not give up after falling on his back like a turtle.

"Are they always like that?" Stan joked as they headed to a top-down convertible. "Woah. This things yours?"

"Yeah. Dad got it for me when I graduated Medical School."

"I thought that shit was a seven year long deal?" Kyle couldn't be a doctor now, how could he?

"I was able to surpass and skip four years right off the bat," Kyle's cheeks flushed red as he slid into the drivers seat, Stan jumping over the door and sat down, musing at how soft the leather seats felt to sit in.

"That's amazing dude. I knew you were smart but... holy shit," he half laughed knowing that his cursing probably sounded really awkward, or at least it did to him.

"So... You've been alright?" Kyle asked, pulling off his hat to reveal his hair was shorter than Stan had thought. It was style in a neat fashion with gel, slightly spiked up. But he was a doctor right? What kind of doctor would he be if he didn't have a nice hair-style too?

"Aside from the shit with Wendy... Actually," he paused, his brows furrowed. "Pretty shitty. After I left I got a job at a market. I swear, I never realized it for now, but I was miserable. Holy fuck. I was blind."

"Love does that to you sometimes, right?"

Stan nodded in agreement as Kyle leaned up to start the car. They drove in silence, Stan oblivious to Kyle looking at him every-so-often from the corner of his eye. He didn't realize, but as soon as they pulled up into the parking lot to the bar he recalled he never told him which bar to go to. Questioning this, the red-haired doctor laughed an gave a shrug.

"There is only one good bar in this whole area. I figured I'd just go to the one first. Lucky guess I guess." Kyle paused as Stan opened the car door and got out. He watched him as he turned and looked back at him, "Do you want to stay with me?" he blurted out, hoping that his confession that he was gay wasn't going to turn him off from the idea. "I mean if you want to listen to Cartman yelling every day go for it, just-"

"That'd be great man, thanks. I'll follow you?" Kyle nodded, waited till Stan's clunker was on, then drove out and to his apartment at the other end of town.

* * *

Kyle's apartment was on the tenth floor, and a bit too big for a single bachelor in Denver. It had three rooms: His room, then one he used as a spare bedroom, the other as an office and store room. He showed Stan the spare room before he showed him one of the two bathrooms and the kitchen and living room. If the latter two didn't merge together like they did the black-haired man could have sworn this was a small house and not an apartment.

"You really are doing well for yourself, huh?" Stan mused, Kyle blushing very slightly, then nodding his head.

"What happened to you? Why didn't you call?"

Stan sighed, sitting down in a chair as Kyle did. He didn't answer for a while, staring at the floor up until he finally did. He explained the story of how when he first arrived in their new town he scoured around for a job. Once he found one he found himself working seven days a week every other week with a day off during the other weeks on a Saturday. He knew him being busy was no excuse for not calling, but the fact of the matter was by the time he remembered he should call he lost the paper with their numbers on it. He explained how Wendy kicked him out, about how he wandered his way back to Colorado without really knowing where he was going for sure, and about how Kenny found him at the bar by a mere chance.

Kyle was silent the whole time, listening to him patiently, before he smiled slightly and leaned back in the chair. "Well at least I'm back with you guys. I don't know... The rate I was going I might have just passed Colorado all together and probably would eventually hit the east coast and fall off a cliff..." It was obvious that the red-haired man didn't like the way he was speaking, so he quickly changed the subject, "So you like being a doctor?"

He nodded in response, "It's nice to help people. People appreciate you for your intelligence there, they don't mock it. Though I can't deny that it does feel a bit empty. I can talk to Kenny and... somewhat Cartman, but I can't tell them just anything. Not like you. I missed you. You were my best friend and you just vanished as if you were never there. You didn't even show up to Shelly's wedding last month. I really felt like our childhood was a lie, that you were just all our imaginary friend..."

"I didn't make it to the wedding because of Wendy. She hid the invitation from me and gave it to me the day after saying that she had just got it in the mail. I really don't know man... I was blind. All I could see what her as this angel or something. Now that it's over I can see her for what she really is..."

"A whore?"

"That and a fucking bitch."

They both laughed, Kyle standing up and walking over to the fridge, "You still drink?" he asked.

"Yeah. You still get drunk after one bottle?" Stan teased, standing and following him, taking a beer bottle that he held out for him.

"Dude, that was just in high school."

Stan was on his third beer before he noticed that Kyle was getting a wee bit tipsy. He smirked and watched him as he nearly missed his mouth, trying to down the liquid. "So you've leveled," Stan stated, the other looking up at him both dazed and confused at his statement, "You've leveled from getting drunk from one, to getting drunk from two."

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," Kyle growled, finishing off his second beer and staggering over to the fridge again.

"Maybe you should just stick to two?" the man in the beanie suggested, the other snapping back and glare and stumbling over, a now open full bottle of beer in his hand.

He pointed the bottle to him, spilling some of it's contents on the tile floor as he started to speak, "You listen to me Stanley Marsh, and you listen good. Never tell me what to do," he stood still pointing the bottle at him, then grinned widely and brought it to his lips and took another swig.

"Here," Stan stood up and took the bottle from him, ignoring his protesting groans as he pressed it to his own lips and chugged it down. "See? All gone now." Stan was always good at holding his liquor, and it usually took about seven bottles to phase him a bit.

"No," Kyle slurred the 'o' out a bit longer than necessary, "There's more..."

"But you're out now. There was only six bottles."

"No, you have some... Still here... Let me get it for you."

Stan was confused, until Kyle pushed him back to sit in the chair again and straddled his waist. He was frozen, unable to push him off, and unable to question what he was doing. It was only a few hours ago that Kyle had told him he was gay, and now here he was drunk to the point where he probably wouldn't remember this moment after he passed out later, and was straddling him. All of these things were confusing him, and nothing was readying him for what would happen next.

Kyle brought his lips down, smirking right before he pressed them firmly to Stan's closing his eyes as he started to move them. It was an odd feeling: being kissed by his best friend. Before a minute passed he even found his hands on his waist, kissing him back, and now even thrusting his tongue into his mouth. It was odd indeed, but still he closed his eyes as he drew lazy circles in his side with his thumbs, and continued. He couldn't stop himself. Kyle was like a drug, once he got a taste of him he wanted and needed more.

He felt a tightness in his jeans. Just kissing the man on top of him was enough to make him hard. He didn't know if it was normal or just an embarrassment. Kyle pulled back, grinned at him, then reached down groping his front making him moan out involuntarily. "I've always loved you Stan. I'd imagine us while I'd masturbate... I imagined us joined..." his words were starting to get distant. "But... your dick runs for women... Not for a stupid Ginger-Jew like me..." his head drooped, his body slumping forward against Stan's indicating that he was out cold for the next few hours.

Stan wasn't sure what to do. He felt his hard on still being touched by Kyle's hand, but also didn't want to move him feeling oddly at ease with him against him. He stayed this way for a few minutes before he couldn't stand it any longer and scooped him up, carrying him to his room and laying him on his bed. He pulled off his hat and grinned looking over his body with wonder. He was thin, but had some muscles that had toned out when he played Basketball in high school. He figured that his friend still played in his spare time, perhaps with Kenny. He traced his fingers over his lips and leaned forward, kissing them very softly before standing up and walking into the second bathroom, shedding his clothes and turning on the shower and leaning back against the wall waiting for the water to get warm.

Below was his awakened erection, staring up at him begging to be touched. It ached and throbbed making him groan out and reluctantly begin stroking it before he even made it to the shower. How pathetic was this sight? His girlfriend broke up with him, he lived in his car for a few days, mooched off of Kenny for a night, made out with his drunken gay best friend, and now he was in the bathroom jerking off with flashing erotic images of Kyle running through his mind. Whoever was cursing him as of late must have really had it out to get him.

He hopped in the shower, taking a plastic wrapped bar of soap from the soap holder and opening it rubbing it all over his body. He hadn't showered in days, and had been surprised to find that his body didn't have as much grime on it than he felt. He used his soap-slicked hand to further pleasure himself as he leaned back against the wall, moaning out as he let himself loose and slumped down to sit on the shower floor. How was he not taking this worse than he should? He looked up at the bottle of shampoo and groaned not wanting to get up to retrieve it. He finally stood, washing his hair with the shampoo before rinsing it out and washing any other parts of his body he might have missed, then got out, taking a white and fluffy towel from the towel wrack and wiping himself dry before securing it around his waste and leaving the bathroom.

He blinked as he noticed someone sitting on the couch. No way in hell was Kyle awake already. He walked in the living room and blinked as he saw Kenny, looking through a car magazine. He turned his head and smiled at him, "Hey. Have a nice shower?" Did Kenny happen to hear him jerk off? He certainly hoped not.

"Yeah, was nice to shower after a few days," Stan half-laughed and turned heading to a box that Kyle had left outside of his room. He opened it and pulled out a blue shirt with a pair of jeans then rummaged to the bottom for underwear and socks.

"Yeah dude, I didn't want to say anything, but damn did you fucking stink," the blonde joked, the other shooting him a perplexed look as he went into his room and got dressed. "You wanna go hang out?" he called, the black-haired man nodding his head as he left his room.

"Sure what do you want to do?"

"Get a couple of sodas and catch up maybe? I'd invite Kyle but he seems to be passed out in his room. Did your stench knock him out?" Why did Kenny have the bad habit of taking jokes so far as to make them grow old?

"He got drunk. He only had two beers before he was knocked out." He thought it was better to leave out the little make-out session that they had.

Kenny let out a laugh, "Sounds like Kyle, fucking lightweight."

The two left, taking Kenny's truck down to a 7-11 where they got a six-pack of soda and the biggest bag of Doritos they could find. They headed to the park, sitting on a bench and enjoying their drinks and snacks before Stan even dared to say anything. There was something bothering him. It wasn't about Kenny, and it wasn't about Kyle. It was about Cartman. His mother had died? How? He wondered if it was from all her whoring around, but didn't want to come out asking like that. After for what seemed like a hour-long awkward silence he turned his head and looked to him, daring to ask.

"How did Cartman's mother die?"

Kenny didn't answer at first, till finally he looked to him and let out a sigh, "There was a robbery down at the bank in South Park. It was just a couple of teenagers that were passing through, so it wasn't anyone we knew, but they held down the bank with guns. The police thought they were fake guns. They seemed to young to have real guns, or to be able to afford real guns, so they went in without any real protection other than their own bullet-proof-vests. The robbers warned that if they came any closer they'd murder a hostage.

"They still didn't believe them, so the imbeciles kept on going. Mrs. Cartman just happened to be the unlucky one of the bunch, and was the hostage that they shot and killed." He looked down, trying to choose his words carefully. "Eric is really hurt over it. He was starting to lose weight, toned down a bit, then that happened and he just let himself go. He's not the same anymore. He doesn't insult us as much as he use to. He doesn't go out of his way to really insult Kyle. He just sits around and plays games trying to avoid anything that reminds him of her."

Stan felt bad. If anything happened to his mom like that... He would probably be pretty choked up about it as well. "And what about you? How is your family?" he questioned.

Kenny smiled weakly, "They're the same as usual. Poor and money hungry... They try to get me to send them money for booze, but I only send them enough money to make them use it on food. It really makes me sad that they are like that... But hey, it's how I grew up. I know how they are, and I know how to tell them no. So I guess that's a plus," he half laughed and leaned back against the bench, staring up at the clouds.

At this point their silences were killing Stan. Every time there was a silence his mind would drift off to Kyle. The prospect of dating him intrigued him. The idea of having sex with him was arousing. He quickly rid his thoughts of Kyle as they started to go back to being sexual. He forced down a drink before shyly looking over to Kenny, who looked at him questioningly. "Hey Kenny... Can I talk to you about something, with no judging involved?" Stan asked, watching as Kenny took a swig of his soda and nodded. "What would you say if I said I wanted to go out with Kyle?"

"I wouldn't say anything. I have seen that moment coming since we were fourteen. Remember Cartman's birthday party? We played spin the bottle and you had to make out with Kyle? You two got so into it, there was no doubt that you both were attracted to each other. Of course no one said anything since you had Wendy but..." he shrugged and took another gulp of his citrus-y drink.

Stan mused, remembering how he crawled into Kyle's lap (much like the other had earlier), the red-head muttering "Dude get off, I'm done with this game" as the others around them cheered and hollered at Stan to be as sexy as possibly. As their lips met everything faded away. Stan kept his arms around the other, who soon wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer to him as their tongues intertwined.

"So you are going to ask him out?" Kenny asked, pulling Stan from his thoughts.

"I want to..."

"Then do it dude. That idiot loves you. You feel something for him too, and with that sort of attraction brings hot sex, so who really cares?" he let out a laugh as Stan gave him a half-glaring glance. "Look, all I'm saying is no ones going to care. And if they do, well fuck them and tell them to go to hell."

Stan smiled at his friend's word usage and sloshed the rest of his soda in his can and stared down at the grass. He figured that it was going to snow soon, the air around them was chilly but not yet cold enough for the snow. He looked up at Kenny and nodded his head. He'd tell Kyle that he liked him, and since he wasn't going to remember what he said earlier in his drunken state he knew he'd be shocked but he'd be pleased. He just hoped that he didn't clam up and get nervous.

"I hope I don't throw up," he half joked, the blonde smiling and shaking his head finishing off his soda and standing up stretching. "We sure haven't talked a lot, you know."

"Eh... I've never been much of a talker. I'm just glad your ass is back. Now everyone can stop wishing and we can start doing. We can go to movies, play basketball, we could even have group orgies if we really wanted to," Kenny turned and looked at him, laughing at the expression on his face, " 'ight man, I know I know, first get Kyle in bed, then the rest of us."

Stan rolled his eyes and tossed his empty can at him, standing up and looking around. "So why Denver?"

"Kyle got hired here, asked me if I wanted to go up with him. We roomed together and he helped me find a job. It's his fault that I became a respectable person of society instead of a drunken poor asshole," he smirked.

"Well, least your not drunken or poor..." he grinned.

* * *

A few hours passed of wandering through the park, waiting for the day to go by. It was nice to have a friend, even if he didn't talk a lot, it still made a difference. They made their way back to Kyle's apartment, and Kenny handed Stan his spare key that Kyle had given him, stating that he would need it more then him, then gave him a confident thumbs up and left without another word.

Now was where the nerves broke out, the man squirming as he paced the living room. Kyle was still asleep, which was a good thing since it gave him time to calm down. He stopped after his fourth time walking around in a circle, then ran to the bathroom, puking out all the soda and chips he had eaten previously. He clung to the edge of the seat, breathing deeply, jumping slightly as he felt a hand on his back, rubbing it.

"You alright?" Kyle asked, leaning over Stan, who looked down at him with a worried gaze. Stan gave a weak nod, and flopped back, sitting down in case he needed to use the toilet once again. The other leaned up, flushing the contents of his stomach down the toilet, and sat down next to him, and feeling his forehead. Stan knew he wasn't sick, but didn't say anything about it.

"When did you know you were gay?" Stan asked, wiping his mouth on his arm, looking at Kyle, who was blushing a crimson color at the sudden question. "The night of the truth or dare game at Cartman's birthday party?" That night, at least for him, was the first of Stan's many man crushes on Kyle as they grew up. Of course, he would have never admitted that when he was dating Wendy.

"No... It was... Much earlier than that. We were nine, that night when we were huddled together in our rainforest tent..."

"That was the sheet in Butter's backyard, right?" Stan asked, raising a brow, the other laughing and nodding his head. The black haired man tried to remember what exactly happened. All he could remember was... His eyes blinked in realization. Cartman had pretended that Stan was infected with a virus that was on his clothes, forcing the none year old to strip out of his clothes. "You knew you were gay from that?"

Kyle nodded shyly, looking away, "I saw you and... It was... Well at first it was awkward. I didn't understand it, but I knew as you started going out with Wendy that I was jealous..." Was Kyle still drunk from earlier? Why was he being this open. "It was always you Stan..."

Stan wanted to kiss him. The way he bit his lip in fear that his friend was going to reject him, the way his green eyes glanced from the tile floor to Stan, then back to the floor once again hating the silence. "Kyle Broflovski," Stan leaned forward, whispering his name. He figured this was a better time than not to confess that he liked him. "Do you remember back in elementary school what I'd do when I got really nervous?"

The red head nodded his head, "You threw... up," he looked up at him, confused. "Were you nervous just now, Stan?"

"You make me nervous Kyle. It's not a bad thing, but dude..." he lowered his head to graze his lips across the nape of his neck, "I can't deny that I like you. I think I have for a long time..."

"Bullshit. You just are saying that because you know I'm gay. You know I love you, and you just don't want to hurt me-"

Stan was tired of hearing Kyle's excuses. He leaned forward, pressing their lips together, pressing his hands to the wall on either side of the other's head. The kiss started out slow, the two both being hesitant, Kyle more so than Stan. The red head reached up, placing his hands on the collar of the other's shirt and balled his fists in it, deepening the kiss by turning slightly and opening his mouth, Stan's tongue immediately taking action and darting to greet the other's tongue.

Why was Stan so worried and nervous earlier? Kyle laid back on the cold tile floor, the beanie wearing twenty-one year old laid over him,and held himself up so he wouldn't crush the other. Their lips once again locking, their tongues dancing as they only paused for air. It was the longest and hottest make-out session of both of their lives. Their lips were swollen, crushing against each other in an almost desperation and need to be pressed against each other.

The man on top knew his jeans were too tight. His lower regions ached to be paid attention to, but he endured it, ignoring his want and need not wanting to seem like he was just horny. Kyle, however, was just as turned on. He pulled back, staring up at the other with lust filled eyes. "Bed... now," he growled, surprising Stan with how forceful he was sounding. He obliged, standing up, and helping his friend- no, his lover up and followed him to his bedroom.

It didn't occur to him to even think about this. Who was the top and who was the bottom? His stomach suddenly squirmed as he watched the back of the man in front of him. Kyle took his hand, leading it to cup his crotch. "I don't know whether your straight, bi, or outright gay," he whispered, "And this all scares me a lot. But even if you don't like this and you turn out to be straight I still want to do this once..." he looked off to the side.

Stan felt bad at this. Why? He liked Kyle. He knew he did. He was friends for years with this red head, and when they kissed he knew he felt something that with Wendy he did not. He took the lead that Kyle gave him, rubbing his hand against the crotch he was placed against. The other's face contorted slowly as he closed his eyes, lowering his head and groaning. The groan sent shock waves down Stan's spine. Was the man in front of him some sort of male siren? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that because this was Kyle he did not care in the slightest. He unzipped and unbuttoned his pants with haste, the other's dick sprung to life making him chuckle.

"Wha?" Kyle grumbled at hearing the sound Stan made, but was shocked when he backed him up to sit on the bed and knelt down in front of him, licking the tip, "What're you do- ohhhh" it was hard to take in all of Kyle's member, but Stan managed to get half in his mouth before he pulled back and bobbed his head. It wasn't a bad taste at all. When he thought of the taste of someone else's junk, he certainly didn't imagine this sweet and salty taste. 'It must just be Kyle' he found himself thinking as he massaged his balls with one hand, the other keeping his member still as it twitched with delight. "Fuck Stan... It's... good..."

Stan was certain that the moans the other was emitting were the most wonderful sounds the earth had to offer. He heard his name being called out, but didn't react till Kyle pulled him back and leaned down, taking his face in his hands and kissed him deeply. "We should strip," Stan stated, the other nodding his head.

"Yeah, dude," he reached down, pulling off his own shirt, going red as Stan stared over his chest like a vulture, "What?"

Stan looked up to meet his eyes, "Fuck Kyle... You're so hot."

"Nah dude, you are... "

Stan didn't bother to retort back, standing up and undoing his pants and pulling them off. He kicked off his socks while he pulled off his shirt, only leaving him in his boxers, that barely concealed his manhood, which was clearly bulging out.

"C'mere," Stan obeyed and crawled onto the bed after the other as he scooted back to the top.

"Who's going to top?" Stan mumbled, the other smirking as he pushed him down to lay back.

"Both of us."

"Huh?" Stan didn't understand. How would they both? He watched as Kyle began to trail kisses down his chest, stopping at the rim of the last article of clothing he had on. He swiftly yanked them off, immediately licking the side of his cock, soon slipping it all the way in his mouth. It was a wonder to see. He stared down at his lover, watching as he managed to take his whole length in his mouth. 'He's had to have done this before...' he thought, feeling a bit jealous, but quickly pushed back the thoughts in his mind. He let out a soft moan as the other started to pick up speed, bobbing his head up and down quickly. He reached up, pointing three of his fingers to his mouth, confirming his fear that he was going to be the bottom this round.

He obliged, making sure to coat his fingers with as much saliva as possible. He resumed with his groaning as Kyle pulled his fingers back and closed his eyes. For all he knew, this was going to hurt a lot. He waited for it, braced himself, then dared to open his eyes after not feeling anything. He nearly came right at the sight. Kyle was leaned over him, his ass straight in the air, his own fingers thrusting in and out of his rear, preparing himself. "K-Kyle..." he stuttered, the other pausing and sitting up, looking at him, with his half-lidded eyes, still thrusting his fingers. "I'm close.."

The other nodded his head and sat up, crawling forward so he was straddling him, positioning his cock over his entrance. Was he even ready for him? He placed his hands on his hips, making the other smile slightly before lowering himself on him, forcing his way down to sheath him. Kyle was not nearly ready. It was tight, very tight. Stan could see on the other's face the pain he was feeling. He rubbed his hands up and down his sides, trying his best to sooth him. It was enough to want him to stop this all together and tell him to top him, but Kyle started to move his hips before he could even open his mouth. He panted at first, then soon started to speed up, creating such a warm, moist friction that Stan could barely take it.

He threw his head back, doing his best to help him lift and pull down his waist, groaning out as he felt himself coming closer and closer to his climax. It'd be too early. He had to endure it. He heard Kyle curse a few times, pounding him up inside him, his head tilted back erotically, making Stan twitch with the need to release. He huffed, and sat up, stopping Kyle for a moment, kissing at his neck and grasping his cock, pumping it, making him moan out. This moment couldn't end, Stan didn't want it to. He knew Kyle was close, but how close? He kissed his shoulder, then nipped at it, "I'm close Kyle..."

"Together..." Kyle breathed out in response, starting his movements once again, Stan keeping his hand on the other's member, still stroking it, now in time with the movements. "I love you, dude..." he wrapped his arms around his shoulders, tilting his head back as he climaxed, his juices splattering on their stomachs. That was enough to send Stan off the edge. He pulled him down hard over his member, the tightness from the other's climax felt amazing as he came inside of him.

They held onto each other, both panting, both sweating from the actions. Kyle stared down at Stan, half worried that he was going to push him away. Stan smiled and leaned up, kissing him tenderly, rubbing his back with his hands. He lifted him up, allowing himself to exit the other, blushing slightly as he moaned lightly. "That was amazing," Stan whispered, laying back, watching as Kyle curled up next to him, laying his head on his chest.

"You sure?" he whispered, tracing invisible circles on his chest, hoping to God that he would ease his worry.

"Dude, stop thinking negatively. You were great, it felt great, and I really like you. So stop it."

Kyle's ears turned as red as a tomato as he looked away, "Alright, sorry... When did you first notice you liked me?"

"Uh... It's hard to say. The last time I remember was back at Cartman's fourteenth birthday party. After I got home that night I had to masturbate three times before I could finally sleep in peace."

Kyle gawked and stared up at him, "But... You... Uh... You're straight!"

"Would a straight man willingly have sex with his best friend, let alone get a hard on from his moans?" Stan grinned widely and put his arm around his shoulders. "I guess it's just cause it's you... Your Kyle. It's not because your a dude or a chick... Just Kyle Broflovski."

"That's fucking cheesy as hell," Kyle murmured, making Stan laugh, then yawn as he rubbed his eyes. "Tired?"

"A bit."

"Then sleep. I'll see you when we wake, right?"

"Dude, you aren't getting rid of me. That sex was binding," Stan teased.

"Dude?" Kyle asked after a long silence. He wasn't even sure if Stan was still awake. "Stan?"

"Mmm?" the other grunted, trying to pull himself away from sleep once again.

"I really do love you, man..."

"I love you too Kyle..."

Kyle grinned and nuzzled up against him. This simple statement was the best thing he had ever heard in his life. He willed himself to sleep, closing his eyes, tracing circles across his chest as he slowly fell asleep. He was going to wake up next to Stan. It was a miracle in itself, and wasn't a dream. He smiled wider, just before he fell asleep. Finally after eleven years of having a crush on his best friend, Stan was now his lover.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for not answering any questions that some might have had. I hope any questions were answered, if not then feel free to ask and I'll answer. I hoped you liked the ending part, and please review and let me know how I did. If I get a good response it would give me a boost to do more StanxKyle pairing and maybe other South Park stories :D

Thank you for your time, and I hope you enjoyed my work~

Until next time~


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